


Scarlet

by lunasenzanotte



Series: Drabbles [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Blasphemy, Drabble, Historical, Intrigue, Italian National Team, Italy, M/M, Prostitution, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 15th century was a dangerous time to live in. Mainly if you were a cardinal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarlet

The scarlet cassock lays on the floor like a giant pool of blood, like something that was alive just a moment ago. The room smells of resin, sweat and incense, a combination so unholy it makes Antonio’s head spin.  
  
A silver glint in the corner of his eye catches his attention. He takes the medallion on Alessandro’s neck and turns it around in his fingers. “Saint Mary Magdalene,” he smiles. “Patron saint of penitent sinners and prostitutes.”  
  
It’s almost like Alessandro can’t hear him. He stretches over Antonio’s body to pour more wine in the silver chalice on the nightstand.  
  
“So this is what you are? A prostitute?”  
  
Alessandro gives him an enigmatic smile. “Or a penitent sinner.”  
  
“You didn’t look much penitent a moment ago.”  
  
“I thought that penitence is what comes after the sin,” Alessandro whispers and runs a hand over Antonio’s chest. The look on his face is so sinful that Antonio wants to have him again, right then and right there. “And then the absolution.”  
  
Antonio chuckles. “Trust me. It doesn’t work.”  
  
“How would you know?”  
  
“I should know. I’m a cardinal.”  
  
“You didn’t look much like a cardinal a moment ago.” Alessandro hands him the chalice. “So you don’t believe in patron saints, do you even believe in God?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Antonio says when the wine is gone, laying the empty chalice back on the nightstand. “My job is as much about God as yours is about love.”  
  
He reaches for Alessandro again, but Alessandro escapes his hold, getting up and pulling his shirt over his head.  
  
“Will I see you again?” Antonio asks.  
  
The look Alessandro gives him is almost terrifying. “If you believe at least in Hell... then I’ll see you there. But you’ll have to wait for me.” He turns around and walks out of the door.  
  
Antonio just blinks, a bad feeling creeping up his spine but his mind unable to grasp it yet. Then, too late, his eyes fall on the empty chalice on the nightstand.  
  
*  
  
“Done?” the man asks, his voice resonating in the empty church like they are speaking in front of the gates of Heaven.  
  
Alessandro never sees the face of the man behind the grille, all he knows is his voice and he doesn’t really want to know more. Knowledge means danger in what he does. “As you wished,” he answers. “Cardinal Conte will not become a pope.”  
  
“Perfect,” the man says. The chair in the confessional screeches.  
  
“Wait!” Alessandro stops him, a hint of panic in his voice, so subtle that only a man who’s heard thousands of confessions can recognize it.  
  
The man sighs quietly before mumbling hastily: “ _Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen._ ”  
  
The door of the confessional closes with a quiet thud. Alessandro waits for a moment before entering the other room. He takes the pouch with money the man left there and hides it under his shirt.  
  
He walks out just in time to catch the last glimpse of a scarlet cassock disappearing through the door of the church.  



End file.
